


And There Were Sheep

by NotEvenThat



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Abrasive Ragnor, Canon Compliant, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Found Family Feels, Gen, Implied Past Suicide of Minor Character, Implied Past Violence, Insecure Magnus Bane, Magnus Bane & Ragnor Fell Friendship, Magnus Learning Magic, Magnus and Ragnor Live Together, Magnus' POV, One Shot, Pre-Canon, Underage Drinking, Vague Blood Mentioned, Vomiting, Young Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 04:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20002243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenThat/pseuds/NotEvenThat
Summary: Ragnor Fell didn't like Magnus. That's what he said anyway and Magnus believed him for a long time, until one day he realized maybe Ragnor didn't hate him as much as he said he did. Would he really have asked Magnus to come live with him if he had?Magnus just wasn't sure.





	And There Were Sheep

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in a weird kind of canon pre-TSC/Shadowhunters TV. I've given up trying to set fic's in either the show or the books. I think it can go either or both or all or none.

Ragnor Fell was the first person in the entire world that had ever cared for Magnus, though it took Magnus a little while to figure that out. Magnus met Ragnor when he came to the City of Bones to teach him. Magnus remembered looking forward to his visits every week. Most of the time, it was the only thing that Magnus had to look forward to. The City of Bones was a dreadful, stagnant, silent place. Ragnor was the only person that Magnus saw that reminded him that he was alive, that there was a place outside of these walls that were built for the living. It also reminded him that someday, he’d get to go there too. 

Magnus loved Ragnor so much, so fast. Ragnor was the first warlock he’d ever met. He was the first person that had ever made Magnus feel like he was normal. He was the first person that had ever given Magnus a name for what he was and he knew how to use _magic_. He was teaching him how to do the coolest things. He was showing him how he could control and use the part of himself he’d always hated. How could Magnus not love him? 

Magnus wanted to impress Ragnor so much. He was desperate to make someone proud of him. He was desperate to be good. He was desperate to be told he was good. When they practiced, Magnus pushed himself as hard as he could, even after Ragnor told him to stop. He tried harder to be good at magic than he had tried at anything else in his entire life. He wanted to do what Ragnor did with centuries of practice in a week and every time he couldn't, he saw it as a failure and he tried even harder. 

Ragnor said he was stupid. He said Magnus was ‘senseless’, that he was going to end up killing himself before he even got the chance to live. When Ragnor thought Magnus wasn’t looking though, Magnus could see a gleam in his eyes. He could see that Ragnor was impressed and that only pushed Magnus to try even harder. Magnus supposed that was why Ragnor tried not to show how impressed he really was. He didn’t want to encourage him that much. 

Ragnor had been coming and giving him lessons for two months when he finally asked Magnus if he wanted to come live with him. Magnus had been so excited he could hardly even breath out the ‘yes’ on his tongue. Living with Ragnor came with a set of rules that Ragnor laid down very firmly but Magnus could only recall a few of them later, as he hadn’t exactly been paying attention. 

‘ _No magic without Ragnor around_ ’ had certainly been one of them, though they both knew Magnus wouldn’t follow it. ‘ _Don’t touch anything_ ’ had been another. Magnus had nodded though, how could he not touch anything? Was he not supposed to touch the floor or the walls? Was he supposed to learn to float that quickly? Didn’t that break the first rule? 

Magnus knew what he really meant. ‘ _Don’t touch any spell books, any potions, any ingredients, any of my things_ \- blah, blah, blah.’ Again, that was something Magnus would not follow. Magnus had a habit of touching anything and everything that caught his interest. It was one of the things Ragnor complained about most when it came to him. Which, Magnus figured was probably why he created that rule in the first place. Magnus also remembered Ragnor saying, ‘ _Don’t be stupid_.’ That was subjective though and Magnus was pretty sure Ragnor always thought he was stupid, so how exactly was he supposed to follow that one?

In the end, Magnus tossed all of Ragnor’s rules aside. He knew Ragnor wouldn’t be asking him to come live with him if he truly expected Magnus to follow any of those rules. They had only known each other for a short while but Ragnor had declared that Magnus was one of the worst pupils he’d ever taught (which hurt for a moment, a bit more than Magnus was willing to admit) but Magnus didn’t think Ragnor had ever offered for any of his other pupils to come live with him, at least none that he'd mentioned. So, that couldn’t be true. At the very least, there had to be some Ragnor disliked more than Magnus. Or, maybe Magnus was so awful that Ragnor felt like he _had_ to take him in.

In the end, Magnus accepted it. He decided that Ragnor could dislike him. He couldn’t do anything to change that but he could impress him. He had to impress him. He had to show Ragnor, if nothing else, that he was _good_. No one had ever really liked Magnus before. He’d been stupid to think Ragnor would. No one had ever been impressed by him before either but perhaps, Ragnor would be the first for that one. Perhaps, he would be the first person to look at Magnus and see something more than a horrible demonic child. Magnus hoped. 

One of the first lessons they’d continued in Ragnor’s home was healing magic. Ragnor thought it was one of the most important things for Magnus to learn. He also thought it was impossible for Magnus to mess up horribly. Magnus thought healing magic was boring. Perhaps that was what had made him mess it up so bad. 

Ragnor said concentration was one of the most important things with any magic Magnus was trying to do. Magnus thought concentration would come a lot easier if he could actually work on something other than healing imaginary wounds that he didn’t have and might never have. Ragnor disagreed. 

Since Magnus wasn’t actually hurt and Ragnor didn’t think hurting himself to try and heal it was appropriate, Magnus mostly sat at their kitchen table and tried to pretend he was healing someone. It was excruciating and Ragnor was less than encouraging. 

How could Magnus try and impress him when he didn’t even have anything to heal? 

Magnus got bored very fast but things hadn’t gone downhill until Ragnor made the mistake of leaving him alone. In Magnus’ defense, had Ragnor really expected Magnus to keep focusing on something so useless, even when he wasn’t in the room anymore? Had he truly thought Magnus would be able to show that much restraint when he was sitting in a room full of every spellbook he’d ever dreamed of?

Ragnor stepped outside and Magnus dropped his hands and sat limply for a few long moments. He was just going to sit there and wait until Ragnor came back and then… Ragnor took forever. Minutes passed and he still hadn’t come back. Magnus wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there but it seemed like hours (Ragnor would tell Magnus later that he had left him alone for about twenty minutes). Magnus finally stood up and his eyes flickered over to the bookshelf instantly, the one full of books he wasn’t supposed to touch at all. 

He was just going to look. He wasn’t even going to try any of them but when he pulled the heaviest, oldest book off the shelf and opened it, how could he resist? Summonings, transformations, love spells, control spells: How could he close the book without trying just one? 

Magnus picked the one he thought he was least likely to mess us. It looked easy on paper. It was a summoning spell. Magnus even remembered Ragnor’s advice on approaching new magic, ‘start with something you think is too easy.’ So, Magnus did. He was just going to summon his book from upstairs. He knew exactly where it was. He could envision it even. It was simple. Easy. He bet Ragnor would be impressed by the realistic goal he set for himself. 

He didn’t imagine he’d blow a hole in the wall. He didn’t imagine he’d blow a hole in five walls actually, every wall between where his book was and where Magnus was sitting in the living room. He’d summoned his book though!

Ragnor had hardly seen the upside of the situation. He rarely did. 

Magnus learned eventually that Ragnor didn’t actually dislike him as much as he claimed to. After Magnus moved in with Ragnor, he got a glimpse of how Ragnor acted around people that he _actually_ disliked and it was nothing compared to how he treated Magnus. 

Magnus saw Ragnor throw a particularly rude werewolf out the window with a flick of his fingers. Magnus saw him portal away clients who refused to leave, often to where Magnus assumed were far away, hard to reach places. Magnus heard him talking lowly when he thought that Magnus was long asleep, threatening to do some particularly dreadful things if whoever he was arguing with didn’t smarten up quick. 

Ragnor called him stupid sometimes. He told him that he was unruly and that he wouldn’t last long if he didn’t rid himself of his aggravating nature. He said he was ungrateful. He said he was the most bothersome warlock in existence but he never talked to him like Magnus heard him talk to others. He never spoke to Magnus with that edge in his tone, that ice that made it abundantly clear that Ragnor did not like you and that you were in dangerous territory just being there in front of him. 

Perhaps, Ragnor didn’t like him but he certainly didn’t hate him as he sometimes claimed and that meant something. Ragnor’s words were empty, at least somewhat. When Magnus did push himself too far, Ragnor was there, calling him stupid and telling him he was going to kill himself but grabbing his hands to stop him, pushing his own magic into him before he could feel an ounce of magic he’d lost. Ragnor told him he was ungrateful and that he regretted letting him come to his home but he never threatened to kick him out. Ragnor complained about him but most of the time, he gave into Magnus’ whims. They went to town. Ragnor bought him the book he wanted. They traveled to see the play Magnus wanted to see. They visited the city Magnus had been reading about. They started learning about whatever spell it was clear Magnus wouldn’t let go.

Magnus thought that eventually, if he pushed hard enough, maybe he could even get Ragnor to like him. A basis of not hating was a good place to start, if only Magnus could do it before Ragnor did finally get sick of him and kick him out. 

One night, Magnus found himself walking with Ragnor down to the tavern in town. They lived high on a hill above the little town below, far enough away that peering out the windows of their home you could just barely see town taking shape below. Ragnor said he chose this place so no one would bother him but he also made it clear to Magnus that he chose this place so there was no chance of anyone seeing him do something unfathomable. The mundanes did not understand magic, he’d said, and they would not listen should one find themselves in a position to try and explain. 

The townsfolk regarded them nicely. They thought they were sheep farmers, living an odd amount away from town and rarely coming into it but nice when they did. Ragnor said he’d put an illusion on their home to make the sprawling empty fields they had look full of sheep and livestock. Magnus asked why he didn’t just get real sheep and he’d scoffed. Magnus thought having sheep might be a little fun but he was secretly happy not to have the reminder of a home long from this place, a darker one in which a body had hung in a barn because of him.

Sheep though? Magnus thought that seemed a little fun. They could make blankets with the wool, Magnus had said with no real intent in his tone. ‘Yeah,’ Ragnor has replied in an equally as flippant tone, ‘You can make blankets and save up enough money to leave my house.’ Touchie, Magnus had thought. 

They rarely strayed into town but when they did, it was almost always on Magnus’ whim. Today though, Ragnor had suggested they take a walk in. He was in a good mood, which was rare for him. He wanted a drink, he’d said as an excuse. Magnus didn’t point out that he could have a drink at home. He was just happy to see his grumpy companion in such rare form. 

The sun was just starting to come down over the grassy mountains beyond the valley of their town, casting the quaint expanse of buildings in dusty orange hues. They’d been to the tavern before. Ragnor was more friendly with the owner than he was to most but Magnus thought that might be because it was the easiest place to buy alcohol.

They walked in together, pushing open the creaky, splintered wood; their arrival audible. The tavern wasn’t full but it was just beginning to bustle with people, abandoning their work as the daylight faded away. Every face in the tavern turned towards them; some surprised, some confused and a couple brightening with familiar recognition. 

Someone called over the counter, the owner that Ragnor was friendly with and Ragnor brightened himself, walking towards the barstools and leaving Magnus to follow behind him. A glass was slid over to Ragnor almost instantly and he took it with a thankful nod and a gulp that swallowed half the dark liquid in one gesture.

Magnus sat next to him and the owner- Charles maybe?- turned his attention on him. “Anything for the boy?” He asked, his question directed at Ragnor even though his eyes stayed on Magnus. 

Ragnor shrugged in Magnus’ direction, waving his hand flippantly, “Give him one too.”

The owner looked dubious for a moment but nodded, pouring another glass of whatever it was Ragnor was drinking and pushing it over to Magnus. Magnus noticed he hadn’t filled it quite as much as he had Ragnor’s but he didn’t say anything. “You’re cleaning it if he throws up.” The man said finally, his wary expression fading with a soft laugh as he took in the sight of Magnus’ small hand wrapping around the glass. 

“He can handle it.” Ragnor said, seeming far too confident to Magnus, who had only ever taken a sip of what Ragnor drank at home. 

Magnus’ expression must have said as much because the man and Ragnor both laugh as they glanced at him. “If you get sick-” The owner said, leaning over the counter to speak lowly to Magnus, as if he was sharing a secret. “-at least do it on your old man.” 

Magnus’ mouth flickered in a smile and the owner laughed before turning to walk to the other side of the counter, following the calls and the hands that had shot up, waving for attention and drinks. Ragnor wasn’t his father but Magnus didn’t correct the owner and neither did he. Father didn’t quite sound right, when Magnus thought about it in connection to Ragnor but he also found he didn’t quite mind if these people assumed Ragnor was. At least then, Magnus’ absence would be noticeable. If Ragnor got rid of him, the next time he came here people would ask; Where’s your boy? 

The liquid sloshed in Magnus’ cup as he raised it to his lips, taking the smallest sip. Magnus felt his mouth revolt at the taste instantly. He almost spit it out onto the table as the sharp burning flavor made its way down his throat. Magnus looked to Ragnor horrified. Whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t what Ragnor had let him try before. That had tasted of sharp berries but this didn’t taste like anything anyone should drink ever.

For a moment, Magnus felt like Ragnor was trying to poison him but then he remembered that Ragnor hadn’t poured it and that he was in fact drinking the same thing. 

Ragnor laughed at him again, a genuine burst of amusement bubbling out of his lips. It was nice to hear Ragnor laugh, even at Magnus’ expense. “You drink it quickly,” Ragnor said, emphasizing his words by swallowing the rest of what was left in his glass. “Through your mouth, down your throat. Don’t taste it.” He explained, pushing his empty glass forward for when the owner came around again. 

Magnus didn’t understand why they would drink something that tasted so horrible that they didn’t want to taste it at all but he didn’t want Ragnor to come without him next time either. So, he held his breath and took a bigger sip, swallowing it as quickly as he could. His face scrunched up and this time, Magnus heard chuckles around the tavern of people who’s seen Magnus’ reaction the first time and turned to watch. 

“It tastes horrible.” Magnus finally spit out, his voice hoarse. 

Ragnor nodded, smiling, “Yeah but we don’t drink it for the taste.” He explained. Magnus had already put that together: Whoever would drink this for the taste was clearly suffering from insanity. “You’re a warlock.” Ragnor continued, dropping his voice low enough that no one else could hear him besides Magnus. “You’re going to need to drink a lot more than that to feel it.” 

Magnus knew that Ragnor was simply telling him. He didn’t think Ragnor would have minded if he’d pushed the glass away and asked for water but Magnus was curious too. He’d never gotten drunk. He’d never had the chance to try, until now. As much as he loved to get on Ragnor’s nerves, he’d never steal from him and take what was in the house. Now though, Magnus thought Ragnor probably wouldn't have minded had he just asked.

Magnus swallowed the rest of the glass and ten minutes later, he felt it settle in his belly. He felt the slow flood of fire moving into his veins. His cheeks felt warm and though he didn’t feel much different, he felt like everything was just a bit lighter than it had been a moment before. His brain felt cloudy but not in any way that was bad. He felt focused somehow, as if the alcohol had chased away all the bad feelings and memories and left him alone with everything else. 

Ragnor emptied his glass five times in the time that it took for Magnus to empty his twice. Perhaps, that was another reason why the owner and Ragnor seemed so fond of each other. Magnus got the sense that every time Ragnor came here, he outdrank every other person.

‘Warlocks drink a lot.’ Ragnor had told him later. Magnus learned, both from experience and observation, that that was very true but that night, Magnus drank hardly two glasses. That has been more than enough. 

They both left the tavern close to midnight. The winding dirt pathway to their home was dark, with only the moon overhead and the blazing shine of the millions of stars that decorated their sky. Magnus loved their village at night. Whenever he couldn’t sleep, he’d come out and lay in the grass and watch. Sometimes, he saw lights dart across the sky. Sometimes, he saw things that he couldn’t really explain. 

Magnus thought the sky was kind of like he and Ragnor: It was hidden and unexplainable, kept so far away from everything else, looking normal until you really _really_ looked. Magnus tripped over his feet and stumbled suddenly, all of his thoughts halting. He landed on his hands and knees with the sharp rocks digging into his palms. 

Ragnor made a noise above him and grabbed the back of his shirt. Magnus felt a tingle around his back, the familiar feeling of Ragnor’s magic, and he felt himself being lifted back up as if he were weightless and placed back down on his feet. Ragnor wrapped his arm around his waist, holding him firm against his side. 

Magnus looked down at his bloody, dirty palms and frowned. There was a time not too long ago when he’d looked down and his palms had been far bloodier, though that time it hadn’t been his. Magic swelled around Magnus’ hands, flickers of blue that died out before they could even begin to take form. They were replaced instantly by hues of green that swept the dirt and blood away and healed the cuts. 

“You’re alright, Magnus.” Ragnor murmured. There was something tender in his tone, like he’d followed Magnus’ eyes and known exactly where his mind had gone. Magnus had wondered many times before but in his drunken state, the words came from his mouth before could stop himself. 

Magnus stepped away sloppily, his feet fumbling for purchase on the uneven ground that had just tripped him. “Why do you talk to me like that?” Magnus demanded, his tone sharper than it had ever been with Ragnor. “If you don’t care- why do you-” Magnus fumbled over his words, mostly due to the alcohol but party due to the emotion bubbling in his chest.

Ragnor’s gaze sharpened, considering, confused. The hand that had been holding Magnus a moment before was still outstretched, as if to catch him if he tumbled again. “Do you truly think that I don’t care for you?” Ragnor asked after a long moment, his eyes tight and calculating, scanning Magnus’ face as he asked. 

Magnus faltered and opened his mouth before closing it again. “You-” Magnus started, his eyes tightening in angry fury. “You tell me I’m horrible- You tell me that I’m the worst pupil that you’ve ever taught and that-” Ragnor stared blankly as he spoke. “-that you regret letting me come live with you and-” Magnus heaved a breath in, his hands tightening into fists at his side. 

Ragnor blinked. “You live with me.” He said simply, his casual tone striking Magnus like a slap across the face. He was furious. He was angry, he wanted answers and Ragnor just- “You live with me.” Ragnor repeated again, “Do you know when I last invited someone to live with me?” 

Magnus stared unresponsively and Ragnor continued after a moment had passed.

“Never. I’ve never invited someone to live with me before.” Ragnor stared, letting his words sink in. “I could have left you with the Silent Brothers. I could have found another warlock to take you in- I know quite a few that would have. I could have just walked away and not taught you or anything and yet, I asked you to come live with me. I took you in. I shared my home with you.” Ragnor stared for a long moment and then asked, “Do you think that I would have done any of that if I truly didn’t like you?”

Magnus' face fell. He felt all the anger bleed out of him at once. Ragnor raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for a response this time. Slowly, Magnus shook his head no but his eyes were unsure and anxious.

“Okay then,” Ragnor said easily. He reached out and wrapped one of his arms around Magnus’ shoulders, as if he was worried he was going to fall again (which he very well might). Magnus didn’t push him away. “Let's go home, before someone sees us and wonders why we’re still out.” 

Magnus followed listlessly as Ragnor pulled him towards their house. The world had grown dark around them without Magnus noticing. The few moments they’d stopped in the street had been enough for the sky to darken completely and leave them shrouded in shadows. Every rock under Magnus’ feet suddenly became a landmine, ready to send him to the ground with every blind step he took. Ragnor held him firm with one arm as they made their way and neither of them said anything, probably worried that if they spoke Magnus was going to get distracted and fall again.

Magnus was too inebriated to really think about how sweet it was that Ragnor cared if he fell again but the thought did cross his mind. He thought of every moment Ragnor had looked after him before and how he’d assumed it had all been out of some sense of responsibility. Magnus saw it now though. Ragnor _liked_ him. Ragnor _cared_ for him. Ragnor liked him enough to have Magnus come live with it, when no one else ever had before.

It was hard to imagine anyone caring about him like that but Magnus found himself hoping that what Ragnor said was the truth. No one had ever cared for Magnus like that before and Magnus found himself longing for it so much that even he was surprised by the feeling in his chest. He wanted Ragnor to care for him and prove that he was someone worthy of being cared for. He wanted Ragnor to love him and prove that he was capable of being loved. Magnus was hopeful for the first time that maybe that was possible. 

As they came upon their house again, that happy haze Magnus was feeling faded. He felt something uncomfortable bubbling in his chest. He frowned as Ragnor let go of him and reached for their door. 

He didn’t feel good. Ragnor’s name came to his lips. He wanted to tell him he didn't feel good but he couldn’t get the words to come out of his mouth. He wanted to back up and turn away but he didn’t do that either. Instead, Magnus took a step forward and Ragnor turned to him frowning. 

Their eyes met for a brief moment and then Magnus bent over and promptly threw up. His vomit splattered across both of their feet. In the small step he’d taken forward, he’d found himself close enough that Ragnor’s feet weren't the only part of him that had been caught in Magnus’ sick path. 

The silence that followed Magnus throwing up was astounding and absolute. Magnus heard the crickets chirping. He heard the wind swaying the trees around them. He heard the call of an owl not that far away. He heard the baw of a sheep that wasn’t real in their yard. 

Then, he heard Ragnor exclaiming, “Magnus, what the f-” 

Magnus promptly burst into tears. He didn’t remember anything else until he woke up the next morning, curled into Ragnor’s sheets with a glass of water being shoved in his face. Ragnor lectured him on the etiquette of turning away from someone if you were going to get sick and he officially banned him from drinking until he was ‘at least fifty.’ 

Magnus didn’t protest. He had the feeling that alcohol was not going to be his vice. 

It took a long time for Ragnor to get over that one but it didn’t matter that much anymore because Magnus knew that Ragnor liked him. He liked him and he probably wasn’t even that upset about getting thrown up on anyway. 

Magnus wasn’t going to push his luck though. Next time, if he ever needed to throw up around Ragnor again, he’d make sure he did it the other way. Even if someone else was caught in the path, he felt he owed Ragnor that. Ragnor liked him and Magnus realized he could get away with a lot but he wasn't quite comfortable enough to push that yet. He didn't actually want to get kicked out. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was all written because I love the thought of Ragnor and Magnus being sheep farmers, even to imaginary fake sheep.


End file.
